After grudgingly reading the novel Divergent on the plane today (I recommend it) I started thinking about my fears. My true, honest, fears. Not just little anxieties, not fleeting shocks, but paralyzing fear.
I started to ask myself what I am truly afraid of and how those fears manifest themself in my life. Strangely, my list of fears is quite short.
1) I am afraid of being stuck.
2) I am afraid of losing control of my faculties.
3) I am afraid that my logical mind will rationalize itself out of a wonderful future at some point, and even worse, that I will not realize it.
Those are all that I can come up with as actual, deep-seated fears. Little things from day to day frighten me, but then I do them or get past them or accept them, and I am no longer afraid of them.
I’ve never been phobia-prone, I just don’t understand phobias at all. Feet, clowns, spiders, the dark, these are all just parts of life to me.
I believe that caution is healthy, but having the courage to leap is the only thing I know. Not leaping, staying sedantary, is my darkside and what I try to avoid. It can lead me into depression and limit my actions in a way that is not healthy.
I have not always been this brave but I have always been this driven.
I cannot live my life afraid of the might-bes or the could-have-beens, so when I am in danger of falling prisoner to the three thoughts numbered above, I change the subject or take action. Just because you have a 4-in-4,000 chance of success does not mean that you cannot be one of those four.